Page 32 of Promised to the Killer

“Let me go.” She doesn’t move, and her face is impassive.

I release her. She steps back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Don’t fuck with me, Siena,” I say quietly, my gaze burning into hers. “We’re intertwined, whether you like it or not. And believe me, I don’t like it.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Just don’t get me in trouble, okay? I’m not the only one they’ll hurt.” She turns and begins up the stairs.

“What do you mean?” I ask, but she only waves at me.

I watch her go, heart racing.

I can still taste her on my lips. The second I touched her, it was like my entire world came alive again. Smells, colors, sounds—it was all more vibrant somehow, like I’m drifting with a veil over my eyes except for when she’s near me.

But that didn’t sate me, not even close. More questions burn through my veins, and now I worry she’s in danger. What is she so afraid of? And who arethey? The madam, Bastone, both and more?

I tear myself away and walk back to the BMW. I climb in, but not before glancing back to the railing.

It’s empty, only the gleam of metal in starlight.

Chapter8

Siena

“Girl, why the hell do you look happy when you’re elbow-deep in a toilet?” Mira stands in the shower with her hands on her hips, her hair a flyaway mess, sweat beading her brow, big rubber gloves over both hands, and looks at me like I’m insane.

Which is fair. I think I am.

“I’m not happy,” I say and realize I’m still smiling. I quickly make myself stop.

“Tell that to your face.” Mira scowls but sighs and gets back to cleaning. “So this is what you do all day, huh? It kind of sucks, you know. I think I’d rather get fucked.”

“You get used to it. At least you’re not doing the toilet.”

“Yeah, okay, fair enough.”

We lapse into silence again. As soon as we do, I start thinking about the night before. About Maxim’s hands on my hips. About his fingers between my legs. I force myself not to smile—but it’s not easy.

He keeps coming back.

I hate him for it. He’s going to get me in trouble, and the girls will suffer. Zarita will hurt Mira and Lan and Ora and everyone else, and it’ll be all my fault.

Because I’m not strong enough to make him stop.

I thought telling him that I’m one of the whores would do it. I hoped implying that all he wanted was sex from me like all my other clients would make him go away and never return.

It didn’t work, and I don’t know how I feel.

I like the attention. He makes me feel good—like I’m not some useless, worthless piece of trash.

But it’s also dangerous. And I don’t want to get sucked into the nightmare bratva world. The Novalov family is notorious, and Maxim’s one of the worst. If I think my life is bad now, it can only get worse if he keeps seeking me out.

I don’t fully understand what he wants, and I’m not sure he knows, either. Maybe he wants my body, but Dallas is full of attractive women he can sleep with. Maybe it’s something else—that fantasy we created together that night. Our own little world.

“I think I decided what I’m gonna do when I pay off my debt.” Mira brings me back to the moment. She doesn’t look over as she scrubs the shower walls. “You wanna know?”

“I really do.”

“I think I’m gonna move to Chicago.”

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